r all night!"

"Go and spend the night in your bed, my dear fellow," said
Clerambault, "and sleep soundly. Come with me in the morning if you
like, but it will be time lost; nothing is going to happen;--but kiss
me, all the same!" After an affectionate hug, they went towards the
door, when Gillot paused a moment: "We must look after you a little,
you know," said he, "we feel as if you were a sort of father to us."

"So I am," said Clerambault with his beaming smile; his own boy was in
his mind. He closed the door, and stood for some minutes with the lamp
in his hand in the vestibule before he realised where he was. It was
nearly midnight and he was very tired, but, instead of going into
the bedroom, he mechanically turned again towards his study;--the
apartment, the house, the street were all asleep. Almost without
seeing it, he stared vaguely at the light shining on the frame of an
engraving of Rembrandt's, The Resurrection of Lazarus, which hung on
the opposite wall.... A dear figure seemed to enter the room; ... it
came in silently, and stood beside him.

"Are you satisfied now?" he thought. "Is this what you wished?" And
Maxime answered: "Yes," then added with meaning:

"I have found it very hard to teach you, Papa."

"Yes," said Clerambault, "there is much that we can learn from our
sons." And they smiled at each other in the silence.

When Clerambault at last went to bed, his wife was sound asleep. She
was one of those people whom nothing can keep awake, who sink into
profound slumber as soon as their heads touch the pillow. But
Clerambault could not follow her example; he lay on his back with his
eyes open, staring into the darkness, all through the rest of the
night.

There were pale glimmers from the street in the half-shadow; and a
quiet star or two high up in a dark sky; one seemed to be falling in
a great half-circle--it was only an airplane keeping watch over the
sleeping city. Clerambault followed its sweep with his eyes, and
seemed, to fly with it, the distant hum of the human planet coming
faintly to his ear, like a strange music of the spheres not foreseen
by Ionian sages.

He felt happy, for the burden was lifted from his body and soul, his
whole being seemed to be relaxed, to float in air. Pictures of the
past day with its agitations and fatigues, passed before his eyes, but
did not disturb him. An old man hustled by a mob of young _bourgeois_
... He could hear their loud voices, too l